


The video went very well

by YZYdragon2222



Series: Fifty Flavors of PBJ [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aradia is curious, Buckets, Bulgeblocking Moirails, Canon Disabled Character, Confident!Tavros, Disability, Gamzee is desperate, Karkat is oblivious, M/M, Masturbation, Moirails, NSFW, Smut, Sollux suffers, Tavros in a Wheelchair, Tavros is naughty, Teasing, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, and a bulgeblocker, dildo, dirty talking, matesprits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 12:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14873559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YZYdragon2222/pseuds/YZYdragon2222
Summary: It’s been ten minutes since you finished watching the video, and you’re riding out in the afterglow of masturbation by trolling up the motherfucker who caused all this in the first place.  In your mind, you’re thinking of ways to get your revenge on the sexy devil.Hmm, would it be revenge, or returning the favor?After five more minutes you also realize that your boxers are still stuffed in your mouth.





	The video went very well

**Author's Note:**

> Look what I did instead of writing another chapter of "I Can Feel You Across The Line". And guess what?
> 
> I'M NOT FUCKING SORRY
> 
> My first "real" smut scene. I've written rape before, but I don't consider that smut.

AT: iS HE, sTILL THERE,

 

TC: YeAh, MoThErFuCkEr StIlL gOt HiS pReSeNcE oN aLl Up In My HiVe.

 

AT: tHAT IS INFORMATION, tHAT MAKES ME WANT TO SIGH, lOUDLY AND HEAVILY, sO UH,

AT: sIGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH,,,,,

 

TC: SiGhInG iS sO mOtHeRfUcKiN aPpRoPrIaTe FoR tHe MoThErFuCkIn SiTuAtIoN bRo.

TC: I mEaN, i AlL uP aNd LoVe My MoThErFuCkIn BeSt FrIeNd, BuT…

TC: RiGhT nOw I gOt ThE mOtHeRfUcKiN tEmPtAtIoN tO uP aNd DiTcH hIs SoRrY aSs.

 

AT: yOU MUST, rESIST THE TEMPTATION, gAMZEE,

AT: iF YOU DITCH KARKAT, hE WILL RETALIATE,

AT: aND THE RETALIATION WILL BE LOUD,

AT: aND IT WILL BE PAINFUL,

AT: aND IT WILL BE NOT WORTH THE FUSS,

AT: fOR BOTH OF US,

AT: }:/

 

TC: ThAt WaS oNe MoThErFuCkIn WiCkEd As HeLl RhYmE, mY bRoThEr, BuT a MoThErFuCkEr AiN’t GoT tHe BrAiNs To PuT oN fUlL aPpReCiAtiOn FoR iT.

TC: CaUsE rIgHt NoW i CoUlDn’T aPpReCiAtE aNyThInG mOrE’n GeTtIn My MoThErFuCkIn SeLf Up AnD oVeR tO yOuR mIrAcUlOuS wInDmIlL hIvE aNd FuCkiN yOuR cUtE lItTlE aSs.

 

AT: i,

AT: ,,,,,

 

You rub your temples when you see the row of commas your miraculous little matesprit just sent you.  Maybe you were just a _tad_ too forward this time; your matesprit is a shy little bean. (Even though he’s surprised you by being a lot—er— _spicier_ than you expected, when it’s just the two of you together.  Not that you’re complaining. Not at _motherfucking all._ )

 

Tavros stays online but doesn’t pester you any further, so you turn away from your husktop.  You take a deep breath and plaster on a smile, and stand up to go check up on your moirail.

 

You see, about five days ago, Karkat invited himself over to yourself because he had come down with a bad cold, and demanded to be “properly pale-pampered all the way to outer fucking space” even though you were “dumbass shitty clownfuck of a bulgemunching moirail.”  

 

And you wouldn’t have minded—really, you wouldn’t have.  But it just so happened that that was the night of the date you’d been planning with Tavros for over a week.  The, uh, _concupiscent_ date night you’d been planning to have at Tav’s hive.

 

Course, you’d trolled up your adorable little matesprit about the situation after Karkat had practically colonized your couch and all of your blankets and demanded you cook for him. (“Wash your fucking wriggler hands, Gamzee, I swear to fucking gog I will fucking tear your intestines out through your goddamn waste chute if I ingest even a molecule of that pan-rotting slime you stuff your face with.”)  Your matesprit, being the kind and supportive little miracle that he is, was totally understanding of having to postpone your date because of your moirail’s impromptu visit. Tavros didn’t blame you or even Karkat at all, instead wishing Karkat a speedy recovery and praising you for being a considerate moirail.

 

So you stayed at your hive and very much did not get any action that night, but that was okay.  Everything was all motherfucking chill. You found that your palebrother was hella adorable when he was sick.  He was overly-emotional and extra sentimental, and he wrapped blankets around himself and looked like a motherfucking burrito.  A crabby, nubby, sniffling burrito. Seafood burrito? Honk honk motherfucking honk…

 

You also found out that sick Karkat was demanding and clingy as FUCK.

 

He required constant attention in the form of snuggling, horn-rubbing, or sometimes literal spoon-feeding.  And you didn’t mind any of these things, you enjoyed the rare opportunity of Karkat allowing you to spoil him and get your affection on.  But a motherfucker needs some time to breathe, too, but Karbrother wouldn’t let you out of his sight for more than half an hour at a time at the most.

 

You tried to give him some distractions.  You let him borrow your husktop so that he could surf Prongle, chain-watch meowbeast videos or chat with Solbro, Kansis, Terezi, or his royal fishface—but none of them seemed to be able to amuse him for long.  You put on his favorite romcoms, but he would claim your arm as his body pillow for the duration of the movie. And if you shifted even one motherfucking inch under his grasp…

 

“OH MY FUCKING GOG, GAMZEE.  LOOK AT WHAT YOU JUST FUCKING DID.  YOU RUINED THE SECOND MOST ROMANTIC MOMENT OF THE ENTIRE FUCKING FILM BECAUSE OF YOUR FUCKING NEED TO MOVE AROUND LIKE A CATERPILLAR IN FUCKING HEAT OR SOMETHING.  ALL I ASKED WAS FOR YOU TO STAY STILL FOR THREE HOURS, GAMZEE, THREE FUCKING HOURS FOR THE DURATION OF THE MOVIE. DO YOU KNOW HOW LITTLE FUCKING TIME THAT IS IN THE SPECTRUM OF THE CINEMATIC ARTS? NO, WHO THE FUCK AM I FUCKING KIDDING, OF COURSE YOU DON’T, YOU UNCULTURED PAN-ROTTED FUCKASS OF A CLOWN.  NOW WHERE THE FUCK IS THE REMOTE CONTROL—GIVE ME THE FUCKING REMOTE, GAMZEE, I NEED TO REWIND THIS SHIT BECAUSE I CAN’T WATCH THIS SCENE WITHOUT THE PREVIOUS THIRTY FUCKING MINUTES OF BUILDUP TO THE CLIMAX.”

 

So here you are, five days later, missing Tavros like motherfucking hell and still stuck indulging in innocent activities with your innocent (relatively) moirail in your boring old hive.  The only time you have time to really chat with Tavros is in the late mornings after you put Karkat to sleep, which is a motherfucking parade in its own right. Who knew it’d be so hard to get such a sick little guy into a recuperacoon?  Anyway, you and your matesprit have engaged in some hot late night troll-sexting, but after five nights in a row you really just wanted to _see_ (and touch) him for real.  

 

“Heeeeeya, motherfuckin’ best friend,” you call, now in the present, finding Karkat curled up on the couch with a box of tissues in one hand and his palmhusk in the other.  “How you all up and feelin’ this miraculous night?”

 

“Like shit,” Karkat answers, not even turning to look at you.  His voice is scratchy and hoarse, and despite everything, you feel the tug of pale pity in your bloodpusher.  “And bored. I want to watch another fucking romcom.”

 

“Aw, bro, that sounds like the bitchtits shit!” you proclaim.  “What’s all up on the movie menu for our hungry little lookstubs, anyway?”

 

“This,” he answers, tossing you the movie.  “Be a good fuckass and put the retarded thing in the fucking television.”

 

You smile, flipping the cover over and reading the title.  

 

AN OBLIVIOUS TROLL WHO UNINTENTIONALLY PREVENTS HIS DESPERATE MOIRAIL FROM GETTING ANY AND INADVERTENTLY CAUSES SECRET LATE-NIGHT RENDEZVOUS AND A MYRIAD OF SHENANIGANS

 

You stare at the title with wide eyes, standing there dumbly for who knows how long until Karkat loudly complains, “What the fuck, you retarded fuckass.  Why are you standing there like a brain-dead vegetable? Does it take you so fucking long to read the fucking title of the fucking film or did your thinkpan finally shit itself at last?”

 

You eye Karkat for a few moments, trying to figure if he’s joking with you or some shit.  But no, he looks completely earnest and doesn’t even realize that he’s already reenacting the motherfucking movie as its titular character.  It’s honestly so fucking ironic, considering Karkat was the one who was so insistent on you “getting your head out of the goddamn gutter and fucking wheelchair boy till he sees stars” in the first place, before you and Tavros had become matesprits.

 

“Nothing, best friend, just got all to spacing out, ya know?”

 

You quickly shove the movie into the television set and excuse yourself, telling your whining moirail that you’re off to the mealblock to make popcorn.  Before you do go to make some of that miraculous exploding corn snack, however, you rush back to your husktop and troll up Tavros again.

 

TC: TaVbRo HeLpPpPpPpP

TC: KaRbRo WaNtS tO wAtCh AnOthEr MoViE

TC: AnD iT’s CaLlEd “An ObLiViOuS tRoLl WhO UnInTeNtIoNaLlY pReVeNtS hIs DeSpErAtE MoIrAiL fRoM gEtTiNg AnY aNd InAdVeRtEnTlY cAuSeS sEcReT lAtE-nIgHt ReNdEzVoUs AnD a MyRiAd Of ShEnAnIgAnS”

TC: Or SoMeThInG lIkE tHaT

TC: Is ThiS mOtHeRfUcKiN rEaL, tAvBrO?

TC: ShIt’S lIkE a MoThErFuCkIn DaYtErRoR, rEaLiTy Is TuRnInG iNtO gOgDaMn MoThErFuCkIn RoMcOmS.

 

AT: oUCH, tHAT SOUNDS PAINFUL,

AT: bUT IF IT’S ANY CONSOLATION, hERE’S A MOVIE YOU CAN WATCH, lATER,

AT: tHAT’S DEFINITELY BETTER THAN THE AFOREMENTIONED ROMCOM KARKAT WANTS TO WATCH,

AT: tHE NAME OF WHICH, iS TOO LONG FOR ME TO TYPE,

AT: nITRAM_426828.mov

 

TC: :o?

 

You open the file, but it brings you to a screen that says:

 

This file may be viewed by authorized parties only.  If you have permission to view it, please enter the password: _____

 

TC: I cAn’T mOtHeRfUckIn OpEn It, My MaN.

 

AT: tHAT’S BECAUSE I WANT TO BE ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN, tHAT YOU’RE ONE HUNDRED PERCENT FOCUSED, wHEN YOU’RE WATCHING IT,

AT: aND ALSO BECAUSE NO ONE ELSE IS ALLOWED TO WATCH IT EXCEPT YOU,

AT: sOLLUX PASSWORD PROTECTED IT FOR ME, bUT HE PROMISED HE WOULDN’T PEEK, bECAUSE HE HAS NO INTEREST IN MY PUPA PAN FILMS,

AT: eVEN THOUGH THIS ISN’T A PUPA PAN FILM,

AT: aNYWAY, i’LL GIVE YOU THE PASSWORD TONIGHT,

AT: bUT YOU MUST BE ALONE,

AT: yOU HAVE TO PROMISE,

 

TC: My HeArT iS aLl cRoSsInG tHe MoThErFuCkIn OcEaN wItH aLl ThE mOtHeRfUcKiN pRoMiSeS, bRo.

 

AT: gOOD,

AT: gO, sPEND TIME WITH YOUR MOIRAIL, tHEN,

AT: <3

 

adiosToreador [AT] ceased trolling terminallyCapricious [TC]

 

TC: <3 

——-

 

And you have never suffered through a night so impatiently.  You fidgeted about a hundred times during Karkat’s romcom, which made him scream at you for an equal number of times.  Honestly, your restlessness only made things worse for you, because it made Karkat keep rewinding the movie and rewatching the parts you made him “miss”, which ended up elongating the entire process.

 

Eventually, however, the movie does end, and you honesty can’t remember a single motherfucking scene from it.  Sometimes, Karkat’s romcoms still manage to amuse you, but not today.

 

After almost an hour of wrangling and persuasion, you manage to get Karbrother situated in the recuperacon in your guest respiteblock.  You kiss his forehead good night before rushing out of the respiteblock. You may have slammed the door a little too hard on your way out, but fortunately Karkat doesn’t follow you.

 

You go to your own respiteblock and lock the door, before snooping around every corner to make sure that there’s no one else there.  Logically, there shouldn’t be anyone else in your block or in your hive, at all, but Tavros wanted you to promise that you’d be alone and you aren’t gonna break that promise.

 

Motherfucking messiahs, you hope that whatever Tavros has in store for you was worth the wait.

 

You sit down at your desk and log into Pesterchum.

 

terminallyCapricious [TC] began trolling adiosToreador [AT]

 

TC: HeYyYyYyY mOtHeRfUcKeR! HoNk HoNk :o)

 

AT: yOU, sEEM HAPPY, }:)

 

TC: ThIs MoThErFuCkEr Is So MoThErFuCkIn AlOnE aNd ReAdY fOr WhAtEvEr CiNeMaTiC sHiT yOu GoT tO lAy On My PaN.

 

AT: hAHAHA, uH, iT REALLY ISN’T ALL THAT CINEMATIC AT ALL, hONESTLY,

AT: bUT I STILL THINK YOU’LL LIKE IT,

AT: yOU’RE ALONE? wHERE’S KARKAT,

 

TC: In MoThErFuCkIn DrEaMlAnD mOthErFuCkEr!

TC: He AiN’t GoNnA bE kNoCkInG uP oUr MiRaClEs AnYtImE sOoN!

 

AT: hAHA, tHAT IS A GOOD, aND RELIEVING THING,

AT: oKAY, aRE YOU READY, tHEN,

AT: hERE IS THE PASSWORD

AT: tv’22tupiid2hiit

AT: sORRY, sOLLUX CAME UP WITH THAT PASSWORD,

 

TC: AlL iS mOtHeRfUcKiN bItChTiTs MoThErFuCkEr.

TC: My CuRiOsiTy Is MaKiN aLl ThoSe OtHeR lItTlE tRaNsGreSsIoNs MoThErFuCkIn ParDoNeD.

 

AT: mAKE SURE, yOU LET ME KNOW WHEN YOU’RE FINISHED WATCHING,

AT: aCTUALLY, i DON’T THINK I HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THAT,

AT: yOU’LL DEFINITELY COME TO ME WHEN YOU’RE DONE WATCHING,

AT: };)

 

TC: OkAy TaVbRo

TC: HoNk :o)

 

\-----

 

The footage is unfocused, at first, and all you see are blurry blobs of black and brown.  After several seconds, however, the video focuses properly and you find yourself looking at Tavros’s legs; it looks as though he’d placed the camera on his knees while wheeling himself around.  You have a pretty good view of his socked feet (Tavros, though messy, enjoys cleanliness, and doesn’t wear his sandals inside his hive, even though all of his shoes are generally very clean, given that they aren’t walked on at all) resting on the footplate of his four-wheel device while the floor, riddled with Fiduspawn cards, passes underneath.

 

“Okay, that looks pretty good, I think,” Tavros suddenly says, startling you for a second.  “I was worried, about the video quality, since I’m using the camera on my husktop. But I think this is fine.”  

 

You watch as the floor beneath Tavros’s feet slows to a stop, indicating that your matesprit has stopped moving.  Then there is some shuffling as Tavros moves the husktop off his lap and places it upright so that it’s facing him.  He smiles shyly at the camera, his eyes bright and cheeks adorned with that chocolate blush you love so much. He clears his throat.  “Uh, hey, Gamzee.”

 

And for some reason, this makes your bloodpusher clench with warmth.  “Hey, lil’ motherfucker,” you rasp fondly, forgetting for a second that he’s not actually in the room with you.  Motherfuckin’ messiahs, your matesprit may have useless legs but his smile alone has the power of the sun, even through a video screen it’s enough to ignite the fire in your soul.

 

“This, um, this is a little awkward,” Tavros continues.  “I never thought I would do something as bold as this, but...you make me forget myself sometimes, Gamzee.”  He laughs and runs his hand through his mohawk, making several tufts of black hair stick up in an adorable manner.  “Anyway, uh, I guess it’s a good thing that this isn’t in real time? So I’m not as nervous. Even though, I’m still a little nervous.  But if the video, uh, fails, I can just, not send it to you? But I do really want to send it to you, because I love you and I miss you and...I really _really_ wanna have sex with you.”

 

Oh fucking hell.  Your Tavros is really the purest angel sometimes, but sometimes he can use his innocent, angelic voice to say some hot, nasty things, and then you think he’s actually a little devil.  A hot, seductive little devil you want to fuck.

 

In the video, Tavros starts wheeling backwards until you can see his entire body, his eyes still fixed on the camera so you feel like he’s looking right at you.  He parks himself next to his sofa, which is covered in towels and—

 

And you notice the bucket sitting in Tavros’s lap.  

 

You let out a choked noise as you suddenly realize exactly what kind of video this video this is going to be.  You feel the nerves in your genitals awakening, your bulge squirming slightly within its sheath at the sight of the genetic material collector just innocently sitting in Tavros’s lap like that.

 

“So if you’re watching this right now,” he says, “that means the video, went very well.”  Tavros finally looks away from the camera and gingerly removes the bucket from his lap and places it on the floor.  Then he places one hand on the couch and the other on the side of his wheeled device, transferring from the latter to the former with practiced movements.  “See, I told you I can transfer by myself,” he says with a huff, and you grin. Tavros knows perfectly well that you help him with his transfers not because you don’t think he’s capable of doing it himself, but only because you wouldn’t waste any opportunity to get your hands all up on his fine ass.  He manually pulls his legs, one by one, from his four-wheel device and arranges them in front of him.

 

“Okay, I think, if you aren’t already, it’s time for you to get comfortable,” he says, smiling widely and looking excited.  You can’t help returning the excited smile. “This is the part where I would kiss you, I think, and um, put my hands under your shirt to feel how sexy you are.  And then I’d ask you, to take your shirt off.”

 

Your breath hitches, and your hands move as though on auto-pilot to the edges of your shirt.  There ain’t nothing so spectacular about your body, least _you_ don’t think so, but the hungry look that Tavros always gives your naked body is enough to make you wanna show off your lanky limbs and protruding ribs as though you were some musclehead model.

 

In the video, Tavros’s hands move to the back of his own shirt, where you know there’s a zipper that makes it possible for him to dress and undress without ripping his motherfucking clothes apart with those bigass horns.  Then he says, “Gamzee, also take off your pants.”

 

It’s a simple command, but there’s that change in Tav’s voice, where his tone drops half an interval deeper and his words just a bit raspier, and mother _fuck_ it goes straight to your bulge.  He’s not asking anymore—he’s _telling_ you what to do, and when he does that you can’t help but obey.  Since it’s Tav, you know that he would never tell you to do anything bad or harmful, but you think that if he used that voice and told you to carve your own intestines out, you would do it.  

 

You pull your shirt over your head with more force than necessary, wincing as it gets tangled in your spiraling horns.  You don’t want your shirt removal endeavors to make you miss any part of the video. You toss the shirt haphazardly to the floor just as Tavros successfully shrugs off his shirt, revealing his toned arms and torso, flushed with that gorgeous orange-chocolate color.  He takes the time to fold it up and place it on the seat of his four-wheel device, and you’re pretty sure he did that only to test your patience. Then his hands fumble with the zipper of his pants and he begins the struggle of getting them off his immobile waist and lower limbs.  

 

You push your own pants down to your ankles in one fluid motion, kicking them roughly off of your ankles, not caring where they land.  You sit back down and watch as Tavros rocks his body from side to side, slowly inching his pants down his thighs, understandably taking a lot longer to remove them than you did.  You’ve seen him do this thousands of times, but watching the pitiful sight now somehow still manages to make your heartstrings tighten a little bit. But mostly it just makes your even more aroused, because watching Tavros remove his pants is in some ways like watching a sexy striptease, as little by little, more of his soft, smooth skin is revealed.  You clench your fists in your lap, wishing so badly that you could be touching said skin right now.

 

He’s managed to get his pants down to his knees when he looks up at the camera again and says, “I’m guessing, you’ve taken off your shirt and pants by now, so I want you to take off your boxers, too—er, assuming that you were wearing any.  I want you to take off your boxers and stuff them in your dirty little mouth.”

 

You move your hands to the hem of your polka-dotted boxers (which you indeed are wearing today), preparing to push them off your hips and—wait, _what_?

 

You are about to rewind the video just to make sure you heard your matesprit correctly, but you hesitate when he continues talking.  “You always talk too much when we fuck, anyway, so uh, this should be appropriate for shutting you up. Not that, I don’t like when you talk, but today it’s _my_ turn and you might miss something if you’re, uh, moaning your shame globes off like a whore.”  Your face ignites in a hot purple flush at his words. “Besides, we have to keep quiet because we don’t want to arouse the suspicions of, um, Mr. Vantas, do we?”

 

On any other occasion, you’d be honking your ass off at Tavros calling your palebrother “Mr. Vantas”, but right now your thinkpan is awhirl with arousal and trepidation at Tavros’s newest order.  You’re not usually a shy motherfucker when it comes to having sex with Tav, but that’s because your hands are all up and all over _each other_ when you have sex.  Doing things to _yourself_ makes you...self-conscious.  Especially since you’re alone in your respiteblock right now.  Logically, you shouldn’t be embarrassed since the walls are giving you complete privacy, but that’s the thing.  You normally don’t get all fancy and kinky and shit during your solo masturbation sessions. You simply stick your hand into your pants and use the power of your imagination to think about riding Tav’s sexy bulge, and then you clean up the mess when you’re done.  You don’t even get naked.

 

Slowly, you slip off of the boxers, rendering you completely nude, and proceed to have an internal battle while Tavros continues to struggle with his pants.  Maybe you should just, uhhhh, ignore the last order? It’s not like Tavros would know, right…?

 

Ironically, the latter thought is what makes your mind.  Your matesprit trusts you enough to tell you to do something even when he’s not present, so messiahs help you, you aren’t going to disappoint him.

 

“Any last words, Gamz?” Tavros asks with a smirk as he finally wrestles his pants off his ankles, leaving his thin legs completely exposed.  He folds the pants up like he did his shirt and puts it on his four-wheel device seat. You know you are one of the only trolls Tavros would allow to see his paralyzed legs uncovered; in the beginning, he was embarrassed as motherfuck about showing you and you’re just so happy he’s so comfortable with you now.

 

“Motherfuckin’ love you,” you whisper, touching your husktop screen for a moment before scrunching your boxers up into a ball and hastily stuffing them into your mouth before you can have second thoughts.  The cloth is soft and it fills up the inside of your mouth completely—but fortunately not so much so as to choke you or stretch your jaw too uncomfortably. You can taste a bit of yourself on it, because prior to taking your boxers off your nook had already been leaking a little bit from arousal.

 

“Mm,” Tavros says as he pulls off his socks.  “I’m getting wet, just thinking about how you must look right now, eating your own dirty underwear, hm?  I bet you like that, don’t you, you little slut? Hm, well actually you’re not all that little, you’re more like, my big, strong, sexy highblood slut.”  

 

Suddenly you are all too grateful for your matesprit’s foresight as the makeshift gag successfully muffles your loud moan.  

 

Tavros replaces his feet on the floor and tosses his socks onto his four-wheel device next to the rest of his clothes.  His fingers play with the waistband of his boxers and if your mouth weren’t plugged up it’d be drooling in anticipation right now.  To your disappointment, his hands move away after a few moments and he smiles impishly at camera. “I think, I’m saving the best for last,” he says, patting his own clothed crotch.  Oh fuck. What a fucking tease. You groan again, wondering what miracles the messiahs granted your matesprit to make him capable of maintaining such composure and self-control. Whatever it is, you certainly don’t possess it, and you reach between your legs to pull your bone bulge out of its sheath, since it’s already squirming and throbbing heatedly within its confines.

 

But then the little devil on your husktop screen says, “Don’t touch your bulge, yet.  I want little Gamzee to come out all by himself.” You blush at the way he refers to your member.  “I want you to get completely hard without even touching yourself.”

 

You groan yet again, this time in frustration, staring, with tears prickling your eyes, down at your sheath, from which the tip of your bulge is already protruding.  How easy it would be to rub your wet, weeping sheath with your fingers and pulling your bulge out to full mast...But Tav said no, so your hands are good as tied.

 

Tavros leans down to the bucket on the floor, and reaches into it, and takes out a small vial.  “Okay, so, I know you like shiny things, right, Gamzee? You think they’re, um, full of eye-sparkling miracles, right?”  Sure you do, but why…

 

Tavros opens the vial and pours some of its contents onto his palm.  You realize its massage oil as Tavros rubs his hands together and begins lathering himself, slowly, languorously, lovingly, coating his neck in the slick substance, then his shoulders and arms.  The oil’s shine, the grey of his skin, and the brown of his flush makes him glow like a silvery-bronze sculpture, highlighting every curve and crevice of his muscles. Like he was motherfucking carved by troll Michelangelo or some shit.  You don’t dare to even blink your eyes, not wanting your eyelids to obscure the miraculous beauty in your screen for even a second.

 

Tavros’s hands move down to his sides and his fingers trace the outlines of his grubscars.  He lets out a long, contented sigh, and your bulge pushes even further out of its sheath, still completely untouched.  Then Tavros reaches for the vial and pours a little bit more oil onto his hands, before applying it generously to the bronze-colored scars and all over his stomach.  Your matesprit didn’t say anything about touching yourself anywhere other than your bulge, right? So you bring your hands to your own grubscars, massaging the surrounding flesh.  You exhale shakily through your nose because it feels so _good_ , but you know that for Tavros it must be even better.  Grubscars are an erogenous zone for many trolls, but Tavros’s have been particularly sensitive ever since his accident, probably to make up for the lost sensation in his lower extremities.  

 

Tavros is outright moaning now, and it’s an adorable, breathy sound that’s music to your ears.  His head is thrown back (as far as he is able without bludgeoning a hole in the wall with his horns) as he rubs his grubscars with increased speed.  Then, without warning one of his hands slides up to his chest while the other hand moves up to his head to grip the base of his horn. He begins tweaking his own nipple roughly while rubbing the thick base of his horn, coating both his nipple and his horn with the shiny oil.  He lets out a loud keen of delight at his own attentions.

 

He alternates, seemingly at random, between playing with his nipples and rubbing his sensitive horns.  You are so invested in the video that you don’t know what to do with your hands. You’re afraid that if you touch yourself anywhere at all, you’ll automatically migrate down to your crotch.  So you just clench your hands into tight fists. You desperately want to take your bulge and give it a stroke, just _one stroke_ , just to provide some relief from the insistent throbbing, but Tavros’s order rings loud and clear in your ears, stopping you.  You don’t dare look down at yourself, but you can feel that at least half your bulge is already unsheathed, leaking and curling between your legs and wriggling desperately for contact.

 

Tavros continues until all of his upper body and his horns, all the way from base to tip, are oily and shiny.  His orange horns remind you of the glowing embers of a fire, all buttered up and glowing like that. And you thought that huge motherfucking rack couldn’t look any sexier.  Then he reaches down and pulls one of his thin legs onto the couch and against his chest. He proceeds to give it similar attentions, buttering it down from his thigh to his ankle and then his foot, and toes, too—before pushing the leg to the side, pulling the other leg up, and doing the same.  Still, his attentions are more hasty and careless than his treatment of his upper body—understandable, considering that he can’t feel any of this. Still, he does look sexy as fuck, all glowing and shit like a motherfucking miracle from horn to toe. You make an appreciative noise in the back of your throat.  

 

“I’m doing this for you, Gamzee,” he says in a husky voice, voicing your thoughts.  “Because this doesn’t really, uh, stimulate me, but I know, you like my legs for some reason even though they don’t work.  I don’t really know why you like them, but, whatever pleases you, pleases me too, I guess.” Then he smiles at the camera, his face lighting up with that perfect combination of sweetness and sexiness, and your bulge pushes out even further.  

 

You don’t really know why you like his legs, either.  You weren’t sure how you would feel about Tavros’s body before the first time you saw him naked, because you were attracted to his personality first, not his physical appearance (his sexiness was just a motherfucking miracle that happears to come with the main course).  But then you’d seen him without his pants for the first time, and even though you knew you wouldn’t _mind_ the atrophied appendages, you were pleasantly surprised to find that they turned you on.  Maybe because you found their uselessness and fragility pitiful. Maybe because you enjoyed the way they contrasted with his arms; he was strong and buff up there while slender and dainty down south, and it was like having all of the most motherfucking miraculous body types rolled into one miraculous motherfucker.  Maybe it was because Tavros’s disability was such a big part of his identity, whether he wanted it to be or not, and you loved every part of him—the good, the bad, _and_ the broken.  Or maybe it was because Tavros hated his own legs so much, and you wanted to make up for his lack of fondness for that part of himself since you really felt bad for anyone or anything that hadn’t earned Tavros’s miraculous pity.  

 

Or maybe you just have a fetish, as Karkat once half-jokingly accused you of having.  Who the fuck knows? Tavros is a hot motherfucker; this you don’t think, you _know_.  Why question the motherfucking miracles?

 

The more you think, the more aroused you get, and by now your bulge is fully pushing itself out into the open, and it is weeping so desperately that even the slightest brush of cool air against the heated flesh tingles and _stings_.  Maybe that’s why you talk so much when you pail with Tavros, to distract yourself from all these hot thoughts so you can last longer.  Right now, your arousal has no outlet and Tav still hasn’t given you the permission to touch yourself, so you dig your teeth into the cloth of your boxers, not caring if your sharp canines rip holes in the fabric, and moan loudly.  

 

“Is this, shiny enough for you?” Tavros asks, his legs folded up next to him on the couch.  He flexes his arms, giggling shyly all the while, and light catches the shininess of his bronze-tinted skin and reflects in miraculous manners every time he moves those strong muscles.  Fuck, _fuuuuuuuuuuuck_.

 

After several minutes of giving you a miraculous exhibit of his perfect body, flexing this way and that and sometimes touching his nipples, horns, or grubscars again, he finally puts his arms down, grabs both of his legs under the knees and swings them off the sofa.  “Are you ready, for dessert?” he asks, and you scream _yeeeeeeeeeeeees_ into the gag, even though he can’t actually hear you and it sounds more like _nnnnnnnggggggghhhhh_.

 

“You can touch your bulge once my boxers are off,” he says softly.  “ _Completely_ off,” he adds more loudly, winking as he hooks his thumbs into his waistband and starts inching his boxers off.  And motherfucking dammit, you know that Tavros needs extra time to take off his underwear but you swear he’s doing it _extra_ slowly just to tease you.  

 

Once he gets the boxers down past his knees, he holds his legs together with one hand, hiding the jewels that lie between them from your sight, while pulling the underwear off with the other.  Your nails are digging so hard into your palms that they’re leaving bloody purple crescents, but of course you’re so far gone by now that you don’t even notice.

 

Finally, _finally_ , Tavros removes his underwear completely and this time, he doesn’t care to fold the garment up, instead tossing it rather carelessly on the floor next to his feet. He’s getting impatient, too. “Are you ready, Gamz?” he asks, as he pushes his knees wide apart, finally revealing a half-unsheathed, thick bronze bulge and a leaking nook.    

 

Immediately, your hand flies to your bulge and the sensation is so electrifying that you clench your eyes shut and let out a high-pitched squeal in the back of your throat.  You grip your organ as though you were trying to strangle it, pumping hard five or six times before forcing yourself to slow down, lest you come before the show is over. You’ve seen Tavros naked dozens of times already--so why is it the sight of his exposed body alone unhinges you so?  Maybe it’s because of the way he’s taking initiative with his own body this time: your favorite motherfucker touching your favorite motherfucker’s body like that—gog if that isn’t a motherfucking miracle.

 

Tavros fumbles with his legs for a few moments, positioning them so that they stay propped open and don’t flop closed when he lets go of them.  Finally, he’s able to set them wide, wide apart, and you marvel at his flexibility. He looks down at his bulge as though it were some foreign object, and not a part of his own miraculous body, and gingerly touches it, using only the pads of his fingers.  The thick organ squirms at his attention, and he whimpers something truly pitiful.

 

Tavros massages his bulge gently, still using only the tips of his fingers, and you want to scream because you remember exactly how that feels from when he did it to you.  Tavros’s lower body control is fucked up but his hands, oh gog--he knows how to work those sinful hands and fingers _good_.  

 

Tavros continues his slow, infuriating treatment of his member, still looking down at it curiously and occasionally looking up at the camera to give you a brief smile or to lick his lips.  His bronze organ is wriggling its way fully out of its sheath. You, on the other hand, are gripping your bulge tighter than you thought possible, and it is curling around your own fingers with more strength than you knew it possessed.  The intense pressure is both blissful and agonizing, and the masochist side of yourself digs your nails into the hypersensitive flesh, not enough to draw blood because that would sting way too motherfucking much (you know from experience), but enough to make you hiss at the sharp pain on your bulge in both discomfort and pleasure.  

 

“Oh, look,” Tavros says, eyeing his own bulge and attempting to sound collected even though his short breaths and strained voice betray him, “it came all the way out.”  He finally wraps his entire hand around the heated, weeping organ, stroking himself at a torturously slow place. How the flying fuck does he not lose control? How is he maintaining that languid pace when you’re already--

 

And with a sudden movement that truly dazzles you, Tavros moves his other hand a bit further south and with no warning whatsoever, shoves two of his fingers past his seedflaps and into his nook, knuckle deep.  

 

He cries out, “Gamzee!” as if _you_ were the one who had just shoved _your_ fingers into his hot, wet hole, and your arousal spikes so hard that you feel fluids running down your own nook in endless rivers.  You wantonly spread your legs and rub your own seedflaps. You’re no stranger to shoving things up your nook, but unlike Tavros you need a bit more preparation, so by the time you’ve slid about half of your index finger into your folds, Tavros is already pumping his two fingers in out of his nook with vigor and borderline viciousness, as though he were trying to light himself in on fire.  You don’t doubt that his hot nook indeed feels like a motherfucking fire as you imagine the slick, passionate heat of his inner muscles surrounding your fingers. Your own nook isn’t as nice, it feels so much colder, kinda gross and humid and slimy—but Tavros would beg to differ, of course. It’s really a motherfucking miracle how you and your matesprit appreciate each other in ways you could never appreciate yourselves.

 

Of course, that’s not what your thinking about right now, as you finally push your index finger all the way into your nook.  All you can think about is how good it motherfucking feels to be clenching around yourself, and how fucking _hot_ your matesprit is.  Hotter than the smoking ashes of culled troll corpses straight outta the fire—ah, oops, that ain’t a good comparison, Gamzee.  Stop trying to be poetic. Tavros somehow maintains the slow, lazy pumping of his bulge while his fingers hammer in and out of his nook with abandon.  

 

He’s abandoned his attempt to remain composed and is now panting and moaning unashamedly. “A-ah, Gamzee, I, I need—“ he stammers, and then he adds a third finger into the hot wet space that is his nook.  The camera’s angle is perfect, giving you the perfect view of the way his seedflaps stretch apart to accommodate the extra finger.

 

You pump your bulge, still trying to go slow, but squeezing down on it even harder to make up for the lack of speed.  You insert another finger into your nook. Tavros is already pumping his three fingers in and out at breakneck speed. He tosses his head back and forth, and fortunately his massive horns don’t get caught on anything as he does so.  His mouth is lolling open, and you can see his sharp little teeth between his lips. There is a bead of saliva at the corner of his mouth and you wish you could lick it off.

 

“Gamzee— _Gamzee_ —“ he gasps, “it feels, _ahhhhh_ —“ and holy motherfucking shit, _he’s adding another motherfucking finger_ , his hole stretching even wider as it adjusts to accommodating four digits.  Normally, when it’s your turn to fuck his nook and not the other way around, you prep him using only three fingers.  Course, you scissor them around to stretch him out, but still…

 

He doesn’t even give himself time to recover, though, immediately thrusting all four fingers in and out of himself, so roughly that you see specks of bronze fluid spattering the towels underneath his ass.  You knew Tavbro could be rough, but motherfuck, this really is taking it up to the next level. At the same time, he speeds up his slow stroking of his bulge by just a little bit.

 

He continues for a minute or so, during which you manage to force a third finger up your nook.  You can barely concentrate on servicing both your weeping bulge and nook at the same time, and you honestly wonder how Tavros is accomplishing such an actual feat of multitasking.  You decide that you’re not as talented as your matesprit and drag your fingers out of your nook, wiping them hastily on your thigh and joining your other hand in stroking your bulge.  You surround the struggling organ with your fingers completely, and even though it doesn’t feel as good as Tavros’s nook would feel around you, the mere motherfucking sight of him stretching himself all nice and ready is already so stimulating in its own right that you’re overwhelmed.  

 

Tavros gives his nook and bulge several more pumps before withdrawing completely all of a sudden, and your mouth clenches around your gag impossibly tight as you are suddenly greeted with the amazing sight of Tav’s empty, gaping hole, stretched so nicely that you can see the ridges on the walls of bronze flesh inside it, and holy motherfuck if that isn’t the yummiest-looking hole you’ve ever seen.  To your distress, Tavros, who is flushed, panting, shiny from a mixture of sweat and oil, and simply looking absolutely gorgeous, closes his legs and hides said hole from your view. But then he reaches to the floor again, reaching into the bucket and pulling out yet another supply…

 

The color is atrocious, the exact shade of bright purple that is your second favorite color (your first being the orange-chocolate bronze of Tav’s blush).  It’s a fat, 8-inch, massive bright purple _dildo_.  Where the fuck did he even get such a thing...?

 

Tavros’s hands are shaking pretty violently, whether from exertion or anticipation, you don’t know.  As he’s attempting to push himself up, his elbow accidentally knocks into the side of his four-wheel device and the sex toy flops to the floor.  “Fuck!” he curses, and for a moment it seems like the purple atrocity is a bit too far out of Tavros’s reach...but then he leans forward a little further and snags it with his fingers.

 

He sits himself back up and shoves his legs open again.  Then he brings the purple dildo to his mouth and starts sucking on it, _hard,_ and it almost looks like he’s trying to swallow the entire goddamn thing whole.  It’s like watching Tavros give the world’s roughest, hottest blowjob _ever_ and for a minute or so you are actually jealous of the motherfucking dildo, even though it’s stupid to be jealous of what is essentially a rubber toy.

 

Tavros removes it from his mouth, by which point the dildo is shiny and dripping with saliva, and then he brings it down between his legs.   _And shoves all 8 inches of it into his nook._

 

“Gamzee!!!” Tavros screams, positively _screams_ , and the sound is so motherfucking miraculous that you should just cull yourself right now so you can die listening to it.  Too bad your hands are occupied with with rubbing and stroking your flailing bulge harder than ever—

 

Tavros keeps the dildo buried deep within him for a few seconds, allowing his tender nook to adjust to its massive size.  But after those few seconds, he begins moving the sex toy in and out of himself, forgoing a slow tempo for a fast, almost angry pace.  You watch with glee each and every time his bronze hole hungrily swallows up that purple rubber bulge, the way he pulls it out until only the tip remains between his seedflap lips, then thrusts it back in, impaling himself over and over and over.

 

“Ahh, Gamzee, Gam—ZEE!  Right there, yes right there—“  He turns his hand slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts.  Tav has very limited voluntary movement in his hips, so he isn’t able to thrust them in tandem with the motions of his hand, but his hand is doing more than enough of the work, what with the brutal pounding he’s giving himself.

 

You pinch the sensitive tip of your bulge, rolling it between your fingers over and over, as your other hand slides up and down your length with wild passion.  You can feel yourself coming _close_ —

 

“Don’t you fucking dare come, Gamzee, don’t you, fucking dare!” Tavros yells, “Not until I say so!  Ahh—“ And you respond with a howl of distress and frustration as you are forced to still your movements once again, gripping your bulge in the confines of your fists.  The bulge feels like it’s about to motherfucking _explode,_ and it struggles violently in search of the friction that would bring it over the edge.  You rush to your closet and retrieve your bucket, knowing that you’ll be needing it soon.  You hope that Tavros gives you permission to use it soon. Every second for which you have to hold back your orgasm is physically and mentally _agonizing_.

 

Meanwhile, Tavros in the video is bringing himself to completion.  He pumps the dildo wildly several more times, before sinking it deep, deep inside him and leaving it there.  He quickly braces himself on his arms, lifting himself into a half-standing position, and rotates his ass over the side of the couch using his upper body strength.  He screams your name yet again as he finally comes, bronze genetic material flooding from his nook like a motherfucking waterfall, sloshing into the pail. The dildo falls out of his nook from between his legs and lands in the bucket with a loud _splash_.  Some of the bronze spatters onto the floor.  

 

Tavros collapses back down onto the couch, his entire body shivering in the aftershocks of his orgasm.  His head falls back and he lets out a long, deep sigh of content. His legs are still lying limply open, and you can clearly see the rivers of bronze running down them from his nook, which is still gaping wide from the brutal stretching and pounding it just endured.  It looks raw and shiny and tender. His bulge has fallen limp, and is slowly retracting into its sheath. You hope Tavros hasn’t forgotten you, because watching him repose in post-orgasmic ecstasy is just so motherfucking delectable and YOU ARE MOTHERFUCKING SHIVERING AND IF YOU HAVE TO STAY ON THE EDGE, THIRSTING FOR RELEASE, FOR A MINUTE LONGER, YOU ARE GOING TO—

 

“You did so well, Gamzee,” Tavros says, breath still short and throat still raspy from all that screaming.  “I hope, you had fun?” He picks up a towel off the sofa and hastily wipes himself off. He reaches over for his four-wheel device, and for a moment he looks at his clothes, contemplating putting them on.  In the end he changes his mind, instead moving them off his seat and placing them on a clean spot on the couch, covering the four-wheel device seat with a towel, and transferring onto it. His arms are still trembling, but already he’s regaining some stability in them.

 

He wheels over to his husktop, and you stop your urgent squealing so that you can listen for the moment he gives you permission to come.  Instead, however, your matesprit chuckles with a worryingly mischievous undertone. “I think, I _am_ going to send this to you,” he says.  “I love you so much. I’ll see you later, slut.”

 

Then he raises his hand, reaching for the husktop and—

 

Turns.

 

The video.

 

Off.

 

The video has ended.

 

And you still haven’t been given permission to come.

 

You scream into the gag like a wild animal, thrashing about in your seat.  You remove your hands from your bulge and, not caring that they’re stained with your own essences, bury your fingers in your hair, fisting and pulling relentlessly at the strands in your frustration.  Did Tavros forget about you? Why did he end the video like that? You want to tear all of your hair out of your scalp. You want to tear down all the walls of your hive, Karkat (still sleeping in the adjacent room) be damned.  You want to fucking _come_ , dammit—

 

And then you suddenly remember something important.

 

AT: mAKE SURE, yOU LET ME KNOW WHEN YOU’RE FINISHED WATCHING,

AT: aCTUALLY, i DON’T THINK I HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THAT,

AT: yOU’LL DEFINITELY COME TO ME WHEN YOU’RE DONE WATCHING,

AT: };)

 

You shoulda known your matesprit would be all clever and sneaky like that.  You quickly exit out of the video and open Pesterchum. You notice that Tavros has already started trolling you.  

 

AT: i’LL LET YOU COME, iF YOU ASK NICELY, };)

 

You claw at your keyboard.

 

TC: Pppppppp-0opleAASE

TC: TAvvvvvvvrRro

 

AT: oOOH, dID SOMEONE, fORGET HOW TO TALK,

AT: i’M AFRAID, i’M UNABLE TO UNDERSTAND WORDS WRITTEN IN THE FONT OF, uH,

AT: hORNY KEYSMASH,

 

TC: mOThHh

TC: fkkkcc

 

AT: tHAT, DOESN’T SOUND LIKE ASKING NICELY, tO ME, };)

 

TC: PleaSeee

TC: TvbO pLS

TC: LeTTT me

TC: comEE

 

AT: hMMMM,

AT: ,,,

AT: i’M THINKING ABOUT IT,

 

TC: asfjdklvqwp0e9

 

AT: wELLLLLLLL,

AT: sINCE YOU’RE SO DESPERATE,

AT: aLL RIGHT THEN,

AT: yOU HAVE MY PERMISSION.

AT: gO AHEAD SLUT

 

You fill almost the entire bucket all by yourself.

 

\-----

 

TC: TaVrOs MoThErFuCkIn NiTrAm, yOu WiLl Be ThE mOtHeRfUcKiN dEaTh Of Me.

 

AT: hAHA, i HOPE, tHAT IS NOT SOMETHING THAT HAPPENS LITERALLY, bUT,

AT: i TAKE IT YOU HAD A GOOD TIME,

 

TC: A gOoD mOtHeRfUcKiN tImE?

TC: AlTeRnIa’S gOnNa MeEt It’S mOtHeRfUcKiN aRmAgGeDoN fRoM tHe FlOoD oF pLeAsUrE tEaRs CoNtRiBuTeD bY mY mOtHeRfUcKiN lOoKsTuBs.

TC: ThOsE lOoKsTuBs ArE sTiLl SmOkIn FrOm SeEiN ToO mAnY hOt BaBeS.

TC: AnD bY hOt BaBeS i MeAn jUsT oNe Of YoU, mY mOtHeRfUcKiN mIrAcLe, YoUr HoTnEsS iS mOtHeRfUcKiN eNoUgH tO mAkE vOlCaNoEs RuN bAcK tO tHeIr LuSuS iN dIsGrAcE.

 

AT: hAHA,

AT: tHAT MAKES ME WANT TO BLUSH LIKE A SILLY SCHOOLGIRL, eVEN THOUGH IT’S OBVIOUSLY AN EXAGGERATION,

AT: sEE, i TOLD YOU, yOU TALK TOO MUCH, }:D

 

It’s been ten minutes since you finished watching the video, and you’re riding out in the afterglow of masturbation by trolling up the motherfucker who caused all this in the first place.  In your mind, you’re thinking of ways to get your revenge on the sexy devil.

 

Hmm, would it be revenge, or returning the favor?

 

After five more minutes you also realize that your boxers are still stuffed in your mouth.

——-

 

twinArmageddons [TA] began trolling apocalypseArisen [AA]

 

TA: aa.

TA: AA help.

TA: ii have 2iinned and now ii am payiing for iit.

TA: paiinfully.

 

AA: 0_0

AA: what did y0u d0

 

TA: tavro2 2ent me a viideo he wanted iit pa22word protected.

TA: he 2aiid not two watch iit.

TA: but ii’m an a22hole and ii wa2 bores 2o ii.

TA: watched.

TA: iit.

TA: holy FUCK 2omeone get a priie2t my braiin need2 two be exorcii2ed.

 

AA: 0_0

AA: 0_0

AA: 0_0

AA: 0_0

AA: 0_0

AA: 0_0

AA: 0_0

 

TA: 2TOP IIT.

 

AA: 0kay

AA: 0u0

AA: y0u brought it up0n y0urself s0llux

AA: there is n0thing i can d0

 

TA: how wa2 ii 2upposed two know tavro2 could be 2o…

TA: ii mean thii2 ii2 2piinele22 niitram we’re talkiing about!

 

AA: i kn0w him much better than y0u do

AA: but I already warned y0u that there is a l0t pe0ple d0nt kn0w ab0ut tavr0s

 

TA: …

TA: ii hate you.

TA: ii hate hiim.

TA: and ii fuckiing hate gz two oh my gog.

 

AA: s0 tavr0s made the vide0 for gamzee

AA: can i see it

 

twinArmageddons [TA] has blocked apocalypseArisen [AA]

 

twinArmageddons [TA] has unblocked apocalypseArisen [AA]

 

TA: fuck you.

 

twinArmageddons [TA] has blocked apocalypseArisen [AA]

 

twinArmageddons [TA] has unblocked apocalypseArisen [AA]

 

TA: nITRAM_426828 (1).mov

TA: let’2 2uffer twogether.

 

AA: 0u0

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Hell yeah motherfuckers! I can write action, I can write sentimental, I can write fluff, and now I can fucking write hot stuff too ;) 
> 
> At least, I hope so? I have no real-life experience about, er, this kind of stuff, so this entire fic was conceived out of the POWER OF MY VERY ACTIVE IMAGINATION
> 
> Let me know with your wonderful comments!


End file.
